


radio silence

by neednot



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Drabble, F/M, XF Writing Challenge, xfwritingchallenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 13:19:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6612112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neednot/pseuds/neednot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>she's discovering she doesn't need the radio anymore. written for @leiascully's challenge: music</p>
            </blockquote>





	radio silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leiascully](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/gifts).



this is her music— 

when she was a little girl it was her mother singing along to the radio, melissa humming in harmony, the mamas and the papas and chicago in the background. 

hymns and prayers on sunday and chants during mass and  _dana, be still_. a heavy hand on her shoulder and her father’s voice whispering low to  _be quiet starbuck._

it is watching  _the exorcist_  late at night with her hands covering her eyes, the sound of her screams and her fear.

it’s rolling her eyes at the sound of “stop being mean to your sister” because she doesn’t need protection.

it’s the sound of the moving truck packing up yet again, her mother’s voice trying to stay positive. it is her father’s voice softly reading moby dick, doing all the voices right, starbuck and ahab together on the high seas.

it’s the reverence in her mother’s voice when she hands dana her cross necklace.

her music is loud metal blaring in her car because she wanted to rebel, hurting her ears though secretly she likes it it. it’s her boyfriend whispering hey come on don’t you want to as he slides his hand up her thigh. 

(it’s the sound of said boyfriend falling out of the car, back when she was sixteen and still thought she should wait until marriage.) 

it’s her mother crying when they send her off to med school and bill laughing at her when she calls home in tears about dissecting a frog, it’s the sound of the car taking off and her father trying not to make a sound until they reach the highway, when he lets out a breath she knows is supposed to be a sob.

it is pants and breaths in her boyfriend’s dorm room until she hears those same pants through the door one day with a different girl’s moans. 

it is the disappointment her mother tries to hide in her voice when she tells her she’s joining the bureau, the  _dana you had such a bright future ahead of you_.

it’s the silence from her father when she tells him the same thing. 

it’s men’s laughs and smirks and  _hey honey how you doin’_ like her worth is measured in how short her skirt is. 

(it’s the silence, too, when she outshoots all of them). 

it’s the fear and break the first time she encounters a real victim, the sounds of her retching in the toilet after and a voice saying she isn’t cut out for this. 

it’s her boss’s voice saying  _of course it’s natural this happens to everyone._

it’s the growing pride she can hear in her mother’s voice when she mentions her, the elation in melissa’s at another promotion. 

(and later, god, it is the catch in her mother’s voice on the phone  _honey your father’s had a heart attack—)_

it’s the sound of taps, playing at his funeral and trying not to sob because she has to be the strong one—

and lately—

and lately—

it’s the sound of the basement door opening and it’s the car engine starting and the phone ringing and mulder’s laugh in her ear, his hands on her waist, always casually touching. it’s the whir of a broken motel air conditioner and some spectral, far off noise she pretends not to hear. it’s the sound as he crunches through sunflower seed shells, her laugh at his jokes.

(sometimes when they’re alone her music is nothing but her gasps in his ear and her name on his lips)

she’s discovering she doesn’t need the radio anymore.


End file.
